The Curse of Immortality
by Xervius
Summary: All around the world live immortals. Some born that way, and some converted against their will.


Arthur Kirkland wasn't one to call himself a dangerous vampire – in fact, if you'd spent more than 5 minutes with him, you'd probably have dismissed him as completely harmless, no matter the stereotypes concerning his species.

So, why was today any different? Why, today of all days, had he dubbed himself 'dangerous'?

Well, today wasn't exactly the anniversary of his parents living, now was it?

_"Arthur! Come inside now, dear, it's starting to rain. You wouldn't want to catch a cold, would you?"_

_The teenage Brit shook his head slowly, only half-listening to what his mother had said. He had been kneeling down - examining two small, bleeding, pinpricks of red on his neck in the reflection of a nearby pond. The offending dots were spread about an inch apart, and seemed to be slightly swollen, a trickle of blood spurting from each. He rose to his feet swiftly, lifting a hand to brush away the red before his mother could see, and headed inside._

_That's when everything started to go wrong._

_Firstly, he had lost his ever-present appetite; a strange ordeal in the Kirkland household, but one that was brushed off easily due to some form of 'stress'. He'd pushed his plate away from him, the thought of eating the meal sickening him to the core. Subsequently, he had excused himself from the table, saying that he 'wasn't feeling well', and had hurried up into his room._

_What was wrong with him? Arthur wasn't sure, although he did have a feeling that it had something to do with his minute neck injury. Interesting. What could possibly cause him to instantly lose his appetite like that?_

_Although..._

_He definitely wasn't hungry anymore, but he was certainly hankering for something. What, he didn't know, but he knew it had to be a substance of some kind, of which he could consume._

_So, what was it?_

_Suddenly, a wave of cold numbness passed through him, and his muscled spasmed involuntarily._

_The wind, perhaps?_

_No. That had not been the wind. Arthur knew what wind felt like, and that definitely was not it. That had felt more like..._

_Just then, a tingling sensation arose in his neck, in the place of the unknown injury. Gradually, it spread, and Arthur could do nothing as the feeling passed throughout every cell in his body. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but he couldn't do anything about it, and it wasn't causing him any pain._

_Yet._

_It seems he had spoken too soon, for not a moment later an intense fire replaced the tingling, instantly causing his knees to buckle and a strangled scream to tear from his throat._

_This is it – this is how I die, he thought, as he crumpled in on himself on the hard-wooden floor. His muscles were convulsing and contracting, causing pain-filled shudders to ricochet throughout his body. He was unsure whether he was screaming, bawling, choking, or if he was completely silent. The only thought running through his mind right now was-_

_"KILL ME!"_

_Had those two words left his mouth? Arthur didn't know. Although, he soon found out not a moment later when his parents flung open the door to his room, concern evident on their faces. Arthur's alarming shout had caused them to pause in eating their meal, and rush hurriedly upstairs to see if their darling baby boy was alright._

_Long story short, he wasn't._

_After a few more pain-filled minutes, with Arthur writhing on the floor and his parents trying to comfort him, sick with worry, the teenager's agony finally stopped. It left him panting heavily against the floorboards, as pale as ever and hungry – oh god was he hungry._

_Although, his hunger wasn't for your conventional type of food._

_He slowly sat up, his eyes darting across the room in front of him. Arthur could smell something. The scent overwhelmed him, clogging his nostrils and dilating his pupils. It was the most incredible thing he'd ever smelt._

_It wasn't just the smell that had caught his attention, though – he could hear something, too. Two steady thrummings, coming from directly behind him._

_Heartbeats._

_The heartbeats, and smells, of his parents._

_No, not his parents. His next meal._

_And that was the day everything went wrong for Arthur Kirkland._


End file.
